Ill Manors Page #6

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- Nobody.

(Jody) Do you know Chris?

Chris what? Chris who?

Big mixed-race guy

from South Court estate.

(Laughs)

Nah... Nah.

I thought you knew everyone

round here.

I do! But I've been away

for a long time.

- How long?

- Longer than you've been born.

Ah! F***in' result!

(Chuckles)

F***in' hell. Hold up!

(Raps) Hey, yo, we're still out here

In the bits

She's still in there

Geftin' jizz on her tits

Hey, yo, when it comes to shottin'

'm the top of the class

She's on the top of the class

Of geftin' f***ed in her arse

Now she bleedin' out her bum...

Oh, f***ing hell, bruv.

After I beat the sh*t out of her, bruv

She best run, run, run

(Laughs)

Open her eye, bust a little come...

Nah, that's not the one!

That's not the one.

That's the one, bruv!

She still owes us, man.

(Mobile rings)

Bruv, that's your number!

- What the f*** you talkin' about?

- That's your number, bruv!

- Huh?

- It's Terry, bruv.

- Hello?

- Where the f*** is Terry?

What the f***'s goin' on?

Bruv, I'm down at the Earl of Essex.

Bruv, come down now.

- Is he at home?

- I-I'm outside, bruv.

I'm in the f***in' street, bruv!

Just come down now, bruv, yeah?

C-Come now.

Bruv, you ain't gonna believe this, bruv!

My phone's been at Kirby's

this whole time!

It fell down the back of the sofa!

(Laughs)

- What the f***, bruv?

- What?

So what you slappin' me about for?

We've been whorin' out this girl

for no f***in' reason! You know that?

That's off key!

(Breathing heavily)

(Groaning)

You want a drink?

Yeah, I need a pint after that.

I've just lost one!

A f***ing large one.

You can have one, an' all.

You f***ing whore.

(indistinct chatting)

I'm gonna go and get me blower.

Leave the door on the latch.

(Kirby) All right, sweet.

- Bruv, it don't matter.

- We're givin' her the money back.

- F*** that!

- Yeah, f*** that.

She never took your phone!

- F*** her! She took someone's phone.

- She never done nothin' to you!

- Bruv-

- She didn't take your phone, innit?

F*** her.

How much more do I owe?

- How much more do I owe?

- You don't owe nothin'. Go then.

Move. Just go, innit?

- What?

- Just go.

What's goin' on?

(Sighs) Go on. Give it back then, bruv.

- Shut the f*** up!

- Give it to her!

Shut up, bruv. Leave it out, man.

F***in' leave it out. What's happenin'?

- Here's your phone. Where's mine?

- F***in' hell.

- Where's my one?

- What you talkin' about?

- Where's my phone?

- You must have mine.

- What you talkin' about, bruv?

- Well, where's my phone?

What the f***!

You think I've got your phone?

Well, someone's got my phone!

- You left your phone at Kirby's?

- Yeah!

And you didn't thief my phone, no?

- What, she took my phone?

- No!

- She took my phone?

- I didn't take your phone!

- You f***in' took my phone?

- No!

I took his phone and I paid him back!

Nah, nah, nah, nah. Listen, yeah?

- This is my phone, yeah?

- Yeah.

She must have took your phone!

F*** her!

I didn't take your f***in' phone,

you stupid c*nt!

Who you callin' a c*nt?

Who you callin' a c*nt?

(indistinct shouting)

- Oi!

- Get down here!

- Give me the f***in' money!

- F*** that!

- Give me the money!

- Get out of my face, bruv!

I ain't tryin' to disrespect you, yeah.

That's off key!

- That's off key!

- Why do you care about her, bruv?

- Who the f*** is she? Your sister?

- Is it your money?

- Whose f***ing money is it?

- It's not your money!

Who the f*** are you talking to?

First, get your f***ing hands of me.

Listen! Who's f***ing holding

the money?

Not you! Yeah?

So whose money is it, hm?

F*** her! She's a f***ing crackwhore!

That's why she's in this mess, man!

- Get up! Get up!

- I didn't do anything!

- Lend it to me, innit?

- Lend this money to you?

If it's your money. That's f***ed up!

Don't f***ing move!

- You want me to lend this?

- That's your money.

Shut your f***ing crying up!

Shut your crying up!

You're a f***ing pussyhole!

Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi! Oi!

- What the f***!

- What?

- Take the money.

- I don't want no f***ing money!

What if I wanna take her down a dark

alley and give her a f***ing belting?

- What about that?

- She's dirty, bruv. Take it.

- Just take the money, yeah?

- You c*nt!

Now, get UP-

Get up, get up, get up.

Yeah? Get the f*** out of here now.

F***ing p*ssy, man.

Any madness. Any given day

some next madness. You know that?

(Spits)

Why are you geftin' emotional, man?

Shut up.

Emotional?

You bring me here and do that sh*t

in front of me. Am I a d*ckhead?

You're some prick.

You're some pussyhole.

I'm a pussyhole

cos I'm not doing crack?

- Yeah.

- All right. F*** it! Do your ting.

Do you wanna do it or not?

You ever done this before?

- Nah.

- All right. Just watch me, yeah?

Easy. Don't smoke it too fast.

Lift it up.

Don't tip the bloody rock out!

Did you get that?

It didn't kill me, did it?

(Jody screams)

(Pants)

I'm sorry! I'm sorry!

Chanel! Chanel! Wake up, please!

(Engine starts)

No, please! No!

(sobs)

Yo.

F***ing hell!

Do you want some action?

- What you got on offer?

- I'm good for it, you know.

Bruv, you see that?

Bruv, you see that?

- Do you want me?

- How much?

- 50 quid.

- 50 quid?

We'll go round this corner.

Bang it, bang it

Bump it, dump it, scorch it, torch it

Crash and burn it

Don't return it

Lost deposit, let 'em earn it

Who cares?

It's on the firm

It's a hire car, baby

(Cheering and applause)

(indistinct chatting)

Safe, dude.

- You all right?

- Course I'm f***ing good.

Take those, will ya? Thank you.

(Man 7) All right, bruv. What you sayin'?

- What are you up to, then?

- Just jammin', innit?

Just jammin', yeah?

Not serving up gear in my pub?

- How am I serving up gear?

- What, you think I'm f***ing stupid?

What, you're in and out of the toilet

like four times in ten minutes?

- I wasn't calling you stupid.

- No?

Search me. I'm not serving up.

(Man 7) Let's have a drink.

Let's talk about it.

I'm just giving my boy something...

Here's one I wrote

for a special occasion.

It's called 'Pity the Plight of Young

Fellows'. Do you wanna hear it?

- (All) Yeah.

- Do you wanna hear it?

(Shout) Yeah!

Pity the fate of young fellows

Too long a bed with no sleep

With their complex romantic attachments

Oh, look on their sorrows and weep

They don't get a moment's reflection

There's always a cloud in their eye

Pity the plight of young fellows

Regard all their worries and cry

Their Christian mothers were lazy perhaps

Leaving it up to the school

Where the moral perspective

Is hazy perhaps

And the climate oppressively cool

Give me one acre of cellos

Pitched at some distant regret

Pity the fate of young fellows

And their anxious attempts to forget

These are the tears of a thug

Like murky water

Crying tears as clear as mud

For his father's daughter

His half-sister

He felt obliged to support her

Since her mum was poor

And her dad died even poorer

Separated until she was eight years old

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